


an island without waves

by tofiveohfive



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Getting Back Together, Light Angst, M/M, Post Friends With Benefits
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-23
Updated: 2020-08-23
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:48:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26054464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tofiveohfive/pseuds/tofiveohfive
Summary: Louis feels unreasonable. Less than a month ago, his consciousness was clean, not a hitch in his step. However, since the day the smallest seed of doubt planted itself in his mind, Louis keeps second-guessing himself and his choices. Every time he turns a corner, there’s some variation of Harry’s essence waiting to haunt him. A smell, a sound, a flavor, a color. Something Harry had mindlessly left behind. Something Louis is certain Harry would love if he could show him. Harry is in everything. He’s everywhere.An AU inspired by Niall Horan's songs: Everywhere | San Francisco | Still
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Comments: 31
Kudos: 253





	an island without waves

**Author's Note:**

> i've been listening to niall's album, heartbreak weather, on repeat since the day it came out & i guess this short fic is the result of that.
> 
> this one is shorter and less angsty (!) than my usual works. i hope you guys enjoy it!
> 
> quick psa: there's a brief mention to the movie "eternal sunshine of the spotless mind". for those who haven't watched it/don't remember the plot, what you need to know is ( **spoiler alert for the movie!** ): it's a story about a couple that chooses to undergo a procedure to forget about each other. it works, they forget, but they end up finding each other again in the future and they fall in love a second time. just when they get together, though, they both receive some shady tapes in the mail and turns out the tapes are recordings of themselves. before doing the procedure, they were asked to talk about why they wanted to do it in the first place and that's what's on the tapes. it's bad and it's ugly and they end up "getting back" only the bad aspects of their past (since that's what they talked about in the recordings). the movie ends with them knowing that they're doomed, knowing that they'll end up hating each other again, but still choosing to be together.
> 
> thank you yas & bhia for being the best cheerleaders, and thank you seed for being so kind and beta-ing this at like, half an hour's notice.
> 
> if you notice any mistakes while reading this, please let me know.  
> enjoy!

**1\. EVERYWHERE**

Louis is grocery shopping. He’s trying to read the instructions displayed in very tiny letters on the laundry detergent label when the air suddenly shifts. At first, he’s clueless as to why the hairs on his arms and neck all rise to attention, but a second later a stranger walks past his back and everything falls into place.

 _Citrus and wood_. 

Harry’s perfume.

Louis’ mind takes him back to messy sheets, raspy chuckles, and hugs so tight it felt like drowning.

It takes someone knocking into his trolley for him to notice that he’d abandoned it right in the middle of the aisle.

“Oh, sorry,” he mutters to no one in particular. Self-consciously, he pulls his cart to the side. 

It’s stupid to feel embarrassed. It’s not like anyone has any idea what was playing through his head. And it’s silly that his heart is slamming so hard against his ribcage — because of a _perfume_ of all things.

Absentmindedly, Louis shakes his head and drops the packaging of laundry detergent inside his cart. He hopes this one will manage to clear the awful deodorant stains in his shirts. 

☁️

Louis is waiting at a red light. 

His fingers drum lightly on the steering wheel, to the rhythm of the pop song playing on the radio. Suddenly, the radio is engulfed by another song playing in the distance.

“... _and you make me wanna change, with the look on your face_ …”

Another car stops next to Louis’, speakers blaring. 

Louis frowns. He recognizes this song.

“ _'Cause I miss you, babe, but I can't stay…_ ”

He lets out a small gasp when the memory dawns on him. 

“ _Not one more kiss, not one more fix, not one more minute, one more night…_ ”

Colorful lights flash in his mind, memories of not that long ago. Sweaty bodies jumping out of sync and two steady arms wrapped around his waist, keeping him balanced amidst the chaotic atmosphere of a concert. His hearing sounds distorted, the loudness of the music very far away while his brain focuses on the heavy breathing coming from the person behind him. His whole body feels weightless, swimming in the comfort of having a chest to fall into, fiery hot kisses running down his neck. 

The sudden, shrill sound of a horn makes him jump in his seat. 

“What the _fuck_ ,” Louis mutters under his breath, face burning. He wastes no time pressing his foot on the gas pedal, desperately trying to gather his thoughts.

This is not like the episode at the grocery store. That had been tender, _pleasant_. A nice, sweet memory to think about on lonely rainy days. This, what just happened, doesn’t feel nice. It feels visceral. It deafens his ears and takes his breath away. It makes his hands feel clammy against the leather of the steering wheel.

Louis bites his bottom lip, mind running. He feels… confused. It’s not like things between him and Harry had ended on bad terms, _exactly_. Yeah, sure, it was a bit awkward that, in the end, they both wanted different things out of the non-relationship between them. Still, that’s not enough to explain the weird clutch in his throat, the feeling of _wrongness_ in his chest.

Since the day they’d decided that it was best to put a stop to things, Louis hadn’t once thought back on it. It had all been very good, very fun, but it wasn’t worth breaking anyone’s heart over. He and Harry had started on the same road and, somewhere along the way, had taken different routes — Harry heading for vows and constancy while Louis lingered towards independence and flexibility.

For the first time, Louis starts to wonder if their paths were really heading for such divergent destinations.

☁️

To no one’s surprise but Louis’, it keeps happening. 

It happens again when he goes for his morning jog and sees a guy running with a labrador.

And again when he’s lazily switching through the channels and his eye catches a Ryan Gosling romcom.

Again when he finds a pink hair clip in between the cushions on the couch.

 _Again_ when the herb mix Harry had brought over for dinner once comes to an end and Louis has no idea where he’d bought it — or if they’re cool enough that he’s allowed to ask.

Louis feels unreasonable. Less than a month ago, his consciousness was clean, not a hitch in his step. However, since the day the smallest seed of doubt planted itself in his mind, Louis keeps second-guessing himself and his choices. Every time he turns a corner, there’s some variation of Harry’s essence waiting to haunt him. A smell, a sound, a flavor, a color. Something Harry had mindlessly left behind. Something Louis is certain Harry would love if he could show him. Harry is in everything. He’s everywhere. 

It feels unreasonable not only because Louis had thought this was well over and done with, but also because it’s not like he and Harry _despise_ each other now. If his mind is missing Harry so much (and this is partially what worries Louis, because his _body_ missing Harry he had expected — his _mind_ is something else entirely), he’s almost certain that he can send the guy a text and ask him out for coffee or something. 

Louis can’t make himself do it, though. Not until he can make sense of the mess inside his head. Not until he can be sure that he won’t hurt Harry with his indecisiveness. Until then, he’ll deal with it the best he knows how: by ignoring it.

☁️

Another week passes and Louis feels marginally proud of the fact that he hasn’t caved in yet — even _despite_ the fact that he’d pulled a muscle in his neck the day someone else’s phone started ringing in the lab and their ringtone was Bitch, Don’t Kill My Vibe. 

He’s doing pretty damn great, if he does say so himself. A lot of self-control. No impulsive, harsh decision made out of recklessness and neediness. 

He’d go so far as to give himself a 10/10 for emotional intelligence.

☁️

In hindsight, he should’ve known it wouldn’t be that simple. 

In hindsight, he should’ve expected some harder blows to hit before things got better.

And a harder blow does, indeed, come — not two days later, dressed in smart pants and a pressed shirt, in the form of Liam Payne.

“Hey! Louis!” Louis hears when he’s about to step into the elevator at the university. “Hold the elevator, please!”

A genuine smile finds its way onto Louis’ face when he turns to see the other man fast approaching. “Payno! Long time no see!” He says excitedly, one hand holding the elevator’s door as requested.

“Hey, man,” Liam heaves, out of breath. “Thanks for that. I’m already a bit late. If I had to wait another ten minutes for the next ride up I’d go nuts.”

“I got you.” Louis answers good-naturedly, pressing the button to the lab floor. Liam presses a button to a couple floors below his. “So, tell me, Payno, how are you? How are things in the Law Department? Anything exciting lately?” Louis asks, somewhat ignorantly. He has absolutely no knowledge about the inner workings of the law division of their university.

“Ah, you know how it is,” Liam starts and Louis really does _not_ know. No idea. “We had some interesting cases this past month. The one with the Anti-Doping Agency? I don’t know if you saw that on the news, but that was us.” He says all that while absentmindedly roaming through his messenger bag. “What about you?” He looks up, giving Louis a distracted smile. “How’s your research coming along?”

“Oh, you know how it is,” Louis jokes, “too many lab hours, too little exciting results. The usual stuff—”

“A-ha!” Liam suddenly exclaims, interrupting Louis. He’s holding a folder he’s just taken out of his bag. Apparently, he’s really excited about whatever is inside of it. 

“Okay…” Louis mutters.

Liam chuckles. “Sorry. I’m just really happy I bumped into you, actually. I have this case folder I have to give to Harry.” Liam shakes the folder lightly, to make it clear that that’s the case he’s talking about. “It’s a bit time-sensitive and I was planning on dropping by this week, but if you could get this to him it would be _such_ a help—”

“Uhm. I— I don’t think…” Louis starts, hesitantly.

“I’m sorry to just spring this on you,” Liam says, his actions contradicting his words as he pushes the folder towards Louis, who sees no option but to take it. “I’m heading to Manchester in a couple days and if you could save me a trip downtown I’d owe you _forever_ —”

“It’s okay, Liam, I just think—” Louis attempts a second time, but he’s interrupted yet again, this time by the elevator doors opening. Liam only has half a mind to listen to him, already stepping out. Slightly annoyed that he’ll be forced to take the elevator again, Louis follows him.

Liam finally seems to notice there’s something amiss when he sees Louis has also stepped out. “Y’alright?”

Louis sighs. “Yes, I’m fine. I’m just trying to…” Louis presses his lips together, wondering if there’s any way to _not_ make this awkward. “About the folder. I really think it would be best if you handed it to him yourself.” Louis offers him the folder back, wishing Liam would just take it and not ask any questions.

He’s not that lucky.

“Oh, no, Tommo, don’t worry! I’m sorry if I made it seem like it’s a big deal. It’s really not.” Liam says, rubbing his nape self-consciously. “It’s not some super secret MI6 data, or anything like that. It’s totally okay for you to—”

Rapidly losing his patience, Louis cuts in. “No, man. What I mean is, I think you’ll see him sooner than I will.”

That makes Liam stop. He frowns. “Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

Louis realizes his mistake as soon as he sees it dawn on Liam’s face. “Oh. _Oh_.” And Louis had tried so hard to not make it awkward. “Aw, shit. I’m so sorry. I had no idea—”

“Hey, don’t worry about it. It’s all good,” Louis appeases him, offering the folder back one last time. Liam finally takes it.

If anybody asks, Louis will say he doesn’t know what makes him do it, but deep down he knows it’s the embarrassment mixed with pity on Liam’s features. “It’s just that we’re both pretty busy, you know?” Louis lies through his teeth. “Life and stuff.”

 _Poor decisions and stuff_.

Liam grasps at it like a thirsty man to water — literally letting out a relieved breath. “Okay, then. If you’re sure… I mean, I’m glad I didn’t—” he cuts himself with a soft chuckle. “You know,” he makes a vague hand gesture. “ _That_ would’ve been awkward.”

“Yeah…” Louis gives him a closed-lip smile. “Anyway. It was nice to see you, Payne.”

“Yes! Same!” Liam says, taking a couple steps backwards towards the hallway. “Sorry about that. Again.” He gives Louis self-conscious grimace. “Take care, Tommo.” 

“Yeah, you too.” Louis sends him one last wave of hand before he disappears.

It takes him a couple minutes to call back the elevator. 

It doesn’t make any _sense_. (It does.) He and Harry had never even _been_ in a relationship in the first place. (Liam seems to think otherwise.) He has no reason to worry so much about what Harry’s friends think. (Apparently, he does.)

☁️

The hardest blow — funny how they just won’t stop coming — happens sometime too early on a Friday morning. 

It’s actually a miracle that it has taken so long to happen, considering how close they live to each other. 

Louis enters the coffee shop under heavy rain. At first, he’s too worried about how tragically wet his glasses have gotten on the way from his car to the door to notice any alarming presences he might have stumbled upon. However, the line to the counter is quite short, the place quiet at such an early hour, and Louis’ ears don’t have to strain much to catch a honey deep voice ordering a “ _Vanilla Latte with a shot of caramel creamer, please._ ”

In the back of his mind, Louis knows he probably looks like an idiot, frozen there, blocking the exit, the bottom of his shirt pulled in a funny way to help wipe his glasses clean, but he doesn’t pay attention to that, because he _can’t move_.

Way back then, when he was blissfully going about his days, unaware that things would ever get this messy, Louis had never even considered what it would be like to see Harry again. 

Well, it’s safe to say he won’t have to wonder in the future, because what happens is: cold hands, general paralysis, heart palpitations, and dry mouth. 

Initially, he thinks the air has been sucked out of the place, but soon enough he realizes his own body is the one reluctant to take a breath in. After meandering through his sluggish brain, Louis realizes it’s because he’s _afraid_. Afraid of any more stimulation hitting his senses. _Seeing_ Harry and _hearing_ Harry’s voice again has done more than enough damage. His body is smart enough to not want to add the smell of Harry’s cologne to the mix.

Still, it doesn’t seem like his self-defense mechanisms are doing such a good job, if his complete inability to function is anything to go by.

Recognizing the defeat for what it is, Louis allows himself to be swamped by everything his brain has already taken notice. The way Harry seems impossibly cozy in his black hoodie, hands hidden inside its front pocket while he waits for his order. How his hair is a little more wild than usual, due to the weather. The way his thighs look positively obscene in grey sweatpants. The rasp in his voice while he thanks the barista, and how the warm laughter he lets out in response to her lame joke works like a damn fireplace, erasing all evidence of the horrid rainstorm just outside. The small indent on his left cheek, the one Louis has kissed so many times before that he’d call it a close friend.

While he catalogs all these details, Louis takes a second too long to grasp the fact that Harry is turning around. Harry already has his latte in hands, so he will most likely leave the shop now. 

And Louis is still blocking the exit.

The realization makes him gasp and he quickly looks away. He curses himself for having left his phone inside the car, because now he can’t even pretend to be entertained by something else while Harry… 

While Harry what, exactly? What does Louis think will happen? Does he think Harry will see him standing there and completely ignore him, out of spite? Or does he think Harry will see him and immediately burst into tears, begging Louis to come back? Is Louis really that arrogant to overestimate his own importance so much?

Maybe Harry will see him and simply say “ _Hello._ ” Maybe they’ll have a nice, friendly conversation and catch up while Louis waits for his order. Maybe this is the universe’s way of making things right, by forcing Louis to face whatever weird delusions have taken over his mind lately and proving to him that it was all for nothing. He and Harry are fine. They made the right choice and now they can both _finally_ move on.

All this reverie only takes a couple seconds, and by the time Louis’ heart stops doing somersaults inside of his chest, Harry has only just turned around and noticed him there. 

Their eyes meet and Louis recognizes the instant affection plain as day on Harry’s features. His mouth opens, no doubt about to greet Louis and say something unbearably sweet like “ _You look cute with glasses! Why did you take them off?_ ” 

In the end, Louis doesn’t get to know what Harry would or would not do, what he would or would not say, because the quietness in the small coffee shop is disrupted by Kendrick Lamar crudely proclaiming,

“ _Bitch, don’t kill my vibe. Bitch, don’t kill my vibe. Bitch, don’t kill—”_

“Oh, shit,” Harry curses, flustered, hastily reaching inside his pocket to take out his phone and pick up the call. “‘Ello?” 

Louis presses his lips together, trying to hold back his laughter. 

Harry’s eyes meet his again and they’re filled with poorly concealed mirth. Louis has to actually bite his bottom lip to avoid making any sound. He doesn’t know what exact game they’re playing, or why is it critical for them to not call anyone’s attention to themselves, but it feels like an inside joke, something just for _them_ and it makes warmth run all the way down to the tips of Louis’ toes.

He doesn’t get to enjoy the feeling for much longer before the barista asks for his order. It takes a moment for him to remember what it was that he was craving before he got through the door, but soon enough he places his order and turns back around.

Shocking disappointment washes over him when he finds Harry nowhere to be seen.

If Harry’s cologne weren’t still in the air — turns out that had been a losing battle all along, just like the other ones — Louis would think he had actually imagined the whole thing.

☁️

Louis wishes he had anything to say in his defense, but the truth of the matter is that feeling sheer delight at seeing Harry again, only to be abandoned without a second thought, without a _single word_ , makes Louis’ mood take a turn for the worse.

He spends the next four hours and a half acting like an insufferable twat to everyone around him, friends and coworkers alike — Oli can fucking shove it if he thinks Louis’ misery is funny — before he gets an explanation.

 _Hey, sorry about this morning. Didn’t mean_ _  
__to leave in such a hurry. The call was Jeff and_ _  
__it was a bit of an emergency, so I had to run._

_Sad, because I really wanted to catch up :(_

_Hopefully I’ll get to embarrass myself in front_ _  
__of you and Toni’s entire staff again sometime_ _  
__soon! Hahaha_

It’s so… simple, and not at all what the monsters inside Louis’ brain had been coming up with. 

He vaguely registers the knot unwinding in his chest, as well as Helene’s mocking quip (“ _I’m glad your boyfriend has finally answered. Now, can we_ please _focus on our groundbreaking research here?_ ”), but he’s too busy writing and rewriting an answer to care.

~~_Hey Hazza_ ~~

~~_Hey Harry, no worries_ ~~

~~_Hey man, it was good to see you again_ ~~

~~_Hey, I’m happy to hear from you_ ~~

_No worries, H. Happy to hear that_ _  
__everything’s alright. You got me worried_ _  
__for a moment. It was good to see you._

 _I’m also looking forward to meeting again,_ _  
__preferably without offending any nice citizens’_ _  
__sensibilities the next time hahaha_

☁️

Louis spends the next Saturday listening to all pop punk love songs in his library and pretending every single song doesn’t make him think of Harry.

_I swear, it's hard to think,  
_ _it's hard to breathe when you're in the air  
_ _I try to run,  
_ _but you're everywhere I go_

**2\. SAN FRANCISCO**

By the time Saturday night arrives, Louis feels like a string that has been pulled on too many times. It’s been weeks of overthinking, almost a month of mental gymnastics, trying to find his footing again and understand just what the bloody hell he wants after all. He’s tired of resignifying everything he thought he knew about his feelings for Harry. Plus, he’d pay a large sum of money to be able to drink from his favorite mug again without daydreaming about the day Harry had chipped off a piece of it.

Louis is lying on the couch, wearing only a worn out pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt with holes in it. Surrounded by empty beer cans and half-eaten bags of snacks, Louis is seriously considering running for the “The World’s Most Useless Sack of Shit” position. 

Unsurprisingly, it’s bucketing down outside. Louis can hear the patter of rain against the window. With nothing better to do but to feel sorry for himself, he’s switching through the channels, looking for something to occupy his mind with. He stops when he sees a pink-haired Kate Winslet.

He recognizes this movie. He _remembers_ this movie — or at least some parts of it.

Eternal Sunshine… Something Something. Harry had once said this was one of his favorite movies, and they had started watching it on this very same couch. That day, though, Louis had been much more interested in the little freckles on Harry’s tummy than in the movie itself. He barely remembers the last part they’d watched before deciding to let go of the pretense to enjoy each other’s mouths.

Tonight, Louis tunes in in the exact moment Jim Carrey’s character is packing up everything that reminds him of his ex. The irony isn’t lost on Louis and he decides to watch the entire damn thing out of spite.

He spends the next hour and a half going through every emotion in the book. He laughs, he gets annoyed, he gets bored, he shares a couple tears and he finishes it with an unrelenting sense of urgency in his chest.

His story is nothing like the movie’s, he can barely make any analogies whatsoever. Still, when one is standing at the edge of a reckless decision, it’s easy to find signs in even the smallest of things.

Not giving himself much time to ponder — the ending credits haven’t even stopped rolling yet — Louis grabs his keys and the denim jacket he had thrown over the console table. He’s out the door and halfway to his car before he realizes he should’ve probably grabbed something to protect himself from the storm. Afraid that he’ll lose his momentum, Louis chooses to just forgo it. 

He has no idea how long he takes to get from his building to Harry’s house, but, soon enough, Louis is slamming the car door shut and running towards Harry’s doorstep.

He hasn’t thought about what he’s going to say. He doesn’t know what to expect and he hadn’t even considered sending Harry a text, to check if he’s at home. It’s like Louis’ body got tired of waiting for his brain to get its shit together and decided to act on its own.

Louis finally reaches the door. He rings the bell before he can think better of it.

The rain soaks his clothes and hair and Louis vaguely registers that he should feel cold, but the adrenaline coursing through his veins makes his body feel like it’s been lit up from inside out.

Due to the storm, it’s hard to hear if there’s any movement coming from inside the house, but it’s not long before Louis hears the sound of the door unlocking. It’s a wonder he doesn’t break the skin with how hard he’s biting his bottom lip. 

Harry’s sleepy face shows up from behind the door and Louis’ knees go weak. 

He has missed him so much.

Harry blinks confusedly at him. One of his hands goes up to rub the sleep off his eyes. “Louis?” 

“I finished the movie,” Louis blurts out, the rain still falling steadily over his head.

Harry opens his mouth and closes it again. A small frown appears between his eyebrows. “I don’t...” He shakes his head slightly, uncertain.

“The one with the Titanic lady? All the crazy hair colors? I finished it.”

That seems to clear some of the doubt off Harry’s face. “Okay,” he says, elongating the word, as if to ask “ _So?_ ”

“I didn’t like it.” Louis is having a hard time getting his thoughts in order, but at least that much he knows. The cold is finally working its way into his bones and it’s hard to see Harry’s face clearly. “I know you love it, but it’s so unfair!”

Harry looks more bewildered with every word that leaves Louis’ mouth. “Honey, I really don’t...” His eyes suddenly widen and he seems to register that Louis is absolutely soaked. “Come in,” Harry urges, opening the door wider. “Let’s talk inside, c’mon.”

Harry puts a hand on Louis’ back and guides him inside, but Louis’ mind is still running too fast for him to dwell on that. “They only remember the bad stuff, Hazza!”

They’ve reached the living room and Harry has started pushing the jacket off his shoulders, taking it off.

“Actually, not even that!” Louis exclaims, indignant. “They don’t even really _remember_ it. They only got to hear their old selves telling bitter versions of the bad stuff. What about the good?!”

“Uh-huh,” Harry mutters, appeasingly.

Once the jacket is off, Louis stands there, wearing only his drenched t-shirt and sweats. He doesn’t know when he started shivering, but he’s shaking so bad his teeth are chattering. “They don’t have any good memories to balance out the bad, Haz, they—”

“Babe.” Harry cuts him off resolutely, his hands on Louis’ shoulders. “I’m gonna get you a towel, okay? Wait here.”

“Okay,” Louis answers. He wraps his arms around himself, in an attempt to stop the shivers.

Harry is back in less than a minute with two fluffy white towels. He drops them on the couch before reaching for the bottom of Louis’ t-shirt. “Take this off as well,” he asks, voice soft while his hands pull the wet fabric over Louis’ head. “What were you thinking, standing in the rain like that?”

“Harry, it’s so fucked up that they don’t have any of the good stuff,” Louis’ brain seems unable to let go of it. He knows he’s getting at something here, he’s just not sure what it is yet. 

Harry doesn’t seem to be listening to him, too busy wrapping a towel around Louis’ shoulders and using the other one to gently rub his wet hair. After that’s done, he uses the end of the towel to dry Louis’ face, his gestures tender.

Louis’ breath is somewhat under control now, his heart has stopped beating a thousand miles per minute and his head feels a bit clearer. He takes a deep breath and tries again. “They don’t have their inside jokes anymore,” Louis pushes on, stubborn. “The cuddles on the couch, the songs they shared. None of it.”

Harry is still distracted, muttering something under his breath that sounds a lot like, “What am I gonna do with you? You’re absolutely freezing.”

To Louis’ shock, Harry suddenly wraps his arms around his shoulders and pulls him forcefully towards his chest. It’s like Harry’s trying to warm him up by aggressively hugging him.

Louis is not complaining about that.

“You’re not _listening_ to me,” Louis says against the skin of Harry’s neck. He’s so _warm_. Louis wants to stay here forever.

He feels and hears Harry chuckling lightly. “I have no idea what your point is, honey.” 

Harry’s hands have started rubbing Louis’ back, all the way down and then back up again. The cold is a distant memory now.

Considering what Harry has said, Louis squeezes his eyes shut and bites the bullet. “I remember the good,” he confesses, face still hidden in Harry’s neck. He thinks he finally understands what his meltdown tonight was all about. It makes a lot of sense. “I remember the good _all the time_. Everywhere.” 

Louis allows himself to take a deep breath and take in Harry’s smell, Harry’s warmth, the softness of his skin. “I remember it when I’m in bed. And when I go out for a drive.” Somewhere along the way, Louis’ arms have also found their way around Harry’s waist. He tightens his hug and presses a small kiss on Harry’s skin when he feels that Harry has stopped moving. He’s stopped caressing Louis’ back and possibly stopped breathing as well. “It’s there when I’m making dinner and when I’m taking a shower and when—”

Harry abruptly pulls back. He looks a bit stunned and his eyes are desperately trying to find Louis’. “What are you saying?”

Louis bites his bottom lip. “I think I changed my mind,” he whispers.

Harry frowns. “You think or you know?”

The doubt in Harry’s tone makes Louis snap out of it pretty fast. “ _Know_. Sorry. I know. For sure. A hundred percent. Changed my mind, yes. Complete one-eighty.”

Harry is smirking now, trying not to laugh at him. His eyes look very green and his dimple is _right there_.

Louis brings a hand to Harry’s face, cradling his jaw. “Missed you.”

Harry turns his head and presses a sweet peck against his palm. “Missed you, too. Terribly.”

Louis’ hand drops to Harry’s nape and he gently pulls him forward until their foreheads touch. “I wanna do this with you.” He whispers. Here goes. “D’you still want me?”

Harry smiles wide, bright. His eyes are fond. “Never stopped. I’ve been waiting for you to catch up.”

Louis lets out a relieved chuckle before pulling Harry even closer, kissing his cheek, his chin, his lips.

_I might show up on your doorstep, soaking wet  
_ _say I'm done running from the one that I want so bad_

**3\. STILL**

Louis takes a hot shower while Harry gets him some clean clothes. He takes a small pleasure in washing his hair with Harry’s shampoo and immersing himself in the sweet smell. Once he’s clean and has regained the feeling in his toes and fingers, he steps out onto the bathroom mat.

Harry is sitting on the sink, holding another one of his fluffy white towels. He jumps down and walks towards Louis as soon as he sees he’s finished showering.

“I hope you don’t catch a cold,” Harry says, delicately drying Louis’ back and arms. He didn’t even offer Louis the towel, just started doing it for him instead. “That’s some nasty storm out there.”

Louis waits until Harry is standing in front of him to wrap his arms around Harry’s waist, putting a halt to his ministrations. “You’re cute when you’re mother-henning me.”

Harry uses both his hands —- one still holding the towel — to grab Louis’ face and give him a quick but deep kiss. “ _You_ are cute when you show up at my doorstep, soaking wet, ranting about how much you miss me.”

Louis feels his cheeks heating up, but still nods. “I did. I’d do it again.”

Harry gives him a fond smile. “No need to.” Another press of lips. “I won’t let go of you now.”

Before Louis can answer, Harry goes back to quickly patting Louis’ body dry with the towel. Once that’s done, he helps Louis put on a new pair of sweatpants and a hoodie, both slightly too big and all the more wonderful because of it.

It feels intimate, soft and sweet. In the back of his mind, Louis is finding it hard to fathom how he had been okay with letting go of this not even a month ago. How he had contemplated a future with hushed intimacy, comforting togetherness, and blazing hot sex and had decided that, “ _Nah, that’s not for me._ ”

A sudden thought crosses his mind.

“Come meet my family,” he blurts out. 

Harry stops kissing the side of Louis’ neck, his hands freezing on Louis’ hips, under the hoodie. “Wow.” Harry’s tone is dry, but when he pulls back enough that Louis can see his face, he recognizes the mischief in the curve of his red mouth. “I don’t think I can keep up with this commitment-crazy version of you. What’s tomorrow? A marriage proposal?”

Louis rises to the challenge, playfully arching an eyebrow. “Maybe so. Would you deny me?”

Harry’s hands squeeze his hips lightly. “Never,” he whispers against Louis’ lips. “I just think we should become boyfriends first. Don’t you?”

That makes Louis laugh, eyes crinkling. “My bad, baby.” He wraps his arms around Harry’s neck. “Would you like to be my boyfriend?”

Harry’s face breaks into a smile so bright it could power an entire city. “Yes. Yes, yes, yes!”

_tell me you want it_ _  
__a thousand miles away from the day that we started_ _  
__I'm standing here with you, just tryna be honest_  
 _if honesty means telling you the truth,_  
 _well, I'm still in love with you._

**Author's Note:**

> thank you so much for reading!  
> comments & kudos are greatly appreciated :)  
> if you want to talk about this story, you can find me on [tumblr](http://www.sunflowrsix.tumblr.com).
> 
> [tumblr post](https://sunflowrsix.tumblr.com/post/627200547925180416)


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